


In My Life

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Fluff, Friendship, Post-Hogwarts, The Quidditch Pitch: Leaving Feast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-04
Updated: 2006-09-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 18:38:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10814514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Their life is hard, but everyone needs to have a little fun from time to time. After a long night, Ron and Hermione close up the bar they work in. A few drinks and some good music lead to something that has been a long time in coming. . . A prequel toHome For The Holidays.





	In My Life

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

“You two are the best,” said Aldo, the owner of the popular Berlin club Ron and Hermione were currently working in. He grinned broadly at Hermione as he handed her the keys to the club that was now empty. “I really appreciate you closing up and you always do such a good job. Remind me to give you a raise.”

“Give me a raise,” Hermione said in deeply accented, but still easily understandable German.

“Ha! Jane, you break my heart,” he said, clasping a hand over his chest. “Go out on a date with me.”

“I think that’s called a conflict of interest, Aldo.” Hermione winked at him as she swung the keys around her finger. “However, I am once again flattered by your offer.”

“You care for Nor more than you let on, I think,” he said, eyeing her keenly just as _Bohemian Rhapsody_ started playing in the background. “You like the big, manly men, yes?”

“Nor’s my friend,” she said, feeling a flush rise on her cheeks as the volume to the music was turned up and Ron’s off-key singing could just barely be heard over the racket. “Nothing more.”

“Your friend James then?”

“Goodnight, Aldo,” Hermione said, pushing him out the door. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tell Nor to take his CD’s out of the player this time,” Aldo said, turning back to her and frowning at the music currently playing over his sound system. “No one likes this old music but him!”

“Actually, Queen is still very popular,” Hermione argued in Ron’s defense. “But I’ll tell him.”

“Such a good girl, you are.” He reached up, patting Hermione’s cheek affectionately. “Jane, the woman who stole my heart.”

“Take a cab home,” Hermione said, knowing that Aldo had indulged a bit too much at his own bar. “Leave your car here.”

“She worries over me,” he said, sighing dramatically as he stumbled out into the darkness of early morning.

Hermione watched him, making sure he didn’t get into his car and did indeed hail a cab. He waved at her before leaving and she waved back at him “Night!”

The second she had closed the doors and locked them for the night, the volume of the music rose to blaring levels and she clasped her hands over her ears. “NOR!” she yelled, not daring to use his real name in fear of someone still lingering around the outside of the club. “Turn the ruddy music down!”

Obviously, he didn’t hear her and Hermione gave up as she pulled her wand out of the pocket she’d sewed into her khakis. She started casting Cleaning Charms as the song switched to _We Will Rock You._ Ron came out from behind the DJ booth, moving his head to the music and grinning at her as he cast a few Cleaning Charms on the dance floor that still had lights pulsing both under it and over it.

“Dance with me,” he said when he finally crossed the dance floor and pulled her into his arms. “I love this song.”

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you drunk?”

“Why do I have to be drunk?” he asked, looking hurt. “I’m just happy to be with you.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing away from him and going back to the task of cleaning, which was so much easier when the other employees of the club had all gone home. She was casting a Cleaning Charm on the bar when Ron caught her attention by waving his hands at her from the DJ booth that he’d snuck back to when he was supposed to be helping her clean.

“Turn it down!” Hermione yelled, not even attempting to decipher what he was trying to say.

Ron turned the music down to a more normal level just as the song switched to _We are the Champions._ When he came back out of the booth once more, he actually ran and then did a fairly good job of skidding on his knees across the dance floor until he was grinning up at her.

“Impressive,” she said dryly.

He winked at her and was still on his knees as he flashed her a dashing smile that nearly stole her breath. “Do one of those mouth shots for me.”

“You _are_ drunk,” Hermione said, turning away from him. “And no. . .Those are disgusting. I hate them.”

“Oh, come on,” he whined, jumping back to his feet. “I feel like celebrating. Two fucking years we spent looking for that stupid cup. I still can’t believe we actually destroyed the Horcrux in that thing. Ruddy nasty one, but we did it. We _are_ the Champions.”

“How much are you going to pay me?”

“What?” Ron asked, pulling a face of confusion.

“For the shot?” Hermione clarified. “I do work off tips.”

“Oh, um. . .” Ron actually made the effort of reaching into the pocket of his jeans. “Can I owe you?”

“Laundry,” Hermione said, finally grinning back at him. “You do the laundry for the next month and I’ll do the shot for you.”

“A month?” Ron laughed incredulously. “I better get a lot more than one shot for that.”

Hermione couldn’t help the pulse of desire that ran over her at the suggestion. She couldn’t miss the look of lust Ron was giving her either. They were just friends. It’d be too awkward for them to date when they were still living in such quarters with Harry. Their first propriety was always Harry and the fight against Voldemort. They couldn’t let the attraction between them get in the way of that. They had agreed on that a long time ago, but that didn’t help the sheer magnetism that they were both constantly fighting. It probably didn’t help that neither she nor Ron had dated anyone in months. She needed a new boyfriend, or she just might end up doing something she regretted.

Aldo hit closer to home than he’d ever know, because Ron had certainly gotten fit, and there was a naughty side of Hermione that liked his rough appearance. She never considered beards particular attractive on a man, but for some reason, Ron looked downright sexy with his. It suited him. Hermione had almost forgotten what he looked like without it. Just like she’d forgotten what he looked like in Wizarding robes. She was too accustomed to his tattered jeans, concert shirts and the worn black leather jacket he adored.

“Open bar,” she said, wanting to erase the suggestion of anything more carnal from both their minds. “But you have to be able to walk home, because I’m certainly not carrying you and a levitating charm would shock the Muggles.”

“Really?” he said in shock. “Open bar?”

“Name your drink,” she said as she walked behind the bar.

She set her wand down on the shiny surface and looked at him as though he was a real customer and not her best friend.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” he asked, arching a skeptical eyebrow. “You hate when I drink. There has to be a catch.”

Hermione shrugged, not really knowing why she was giving into his whims. Perhaps she liked his cheery grin a little too much. Lord knows, it was nice to have something to be happy about when they had been struggling and fighting for so long. “Maybe I feel like celebrating too.”

Ron nodded, considering it for a second before he gave her a challenging look. “Have a shot with me then.”

“No,” Hermione said, shaking her head as the memory of the first and last time she ever let Ron and Harry talk her into getting drunk flitted through her mind. “Unlike you, I learn from my mistakes.”

“One shot,” he said, lifting his hand as though it was nothing. “You can handle that. I see you tasting new drinks all the time.”

“That’s only to make sure I have the right combination,” Hermione said defensively. “I can’t be serving drinks that taste like sludge.”

“I’ve had some of the drinks you’ve made up. . .If you can taste those, you can handle a shot or two.”

“Fine,” Hermione sighed, knowing that she could easily handle a shot. She did sample new drinks at least a few times a week, never more than a sip or two, but some of them were pretty strong. “Your call.”

“Whoa!” Ron said, his grin back in place and Hermione instantly decided choking down one horrid shot was worth it. She loved his smile. He rubbed his beard thoughtfully before his grin widened. “Jäger.”

“No way!” Hermione gasped, shaking her head. She had seen too many people make fools of themselves with that stuff. “Anything _but_ Jäger.”

“A tequila body shot then,” he said, winking at her. “My body or yours. . .Either way suits me.”

“Jäger it is,” Hermione said, turning around to grab the bottle off the top shelf.

She made a show of grabbing the shot glasses, twirling them between her fingers before setting them on the bar, and then poured the drinks with a flare being a bartender for the past two years had earned her.

“Impressive,” Ron said, obviously enjoying the show. “You’re pulling out all the shots. Pun intended.”

“Doing a month’s worth of laundry is the best tip I’ve got all month,” she said, grinning as she slid his drink to him. “Might as well make it worth your effort.”

“A toast,” Ron said, lifting his glass. “To Voldemort impaling himself on his own wand and finishing off what will otherwise be a very nasty job.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Hermione said, clinking her glass with Ron’s and then tossing back the drink. It tasted like cough syrup and went down like fire, but she didn’t choke on it, no decent bartender would. “Yuck!”

“I concur,” Ron said, wincing over it as he set down his empty glass. “I forgot that this stuff tastes like cherry covered shit. You choose the next one.”

“A straight shot or something mixed?”

“Mixed,” he said, his grin back in place. “Something you made up.”

Hermione turned, grabbing a few bottles and then making Ron’s drink with even more flare than she’d used pouring the shots. He clapped when she threw a bottle and caught it behind her back, seeming to be genuinely impressed, which pleased Hermione. Being a bartender wasn’t the greatest job in the world, but she always tried to be the very best at everything she did.

When she was done, she snapped a green glow stick, dropped it into the glass and pushed the now glowing drink towards him. Ron eyed it wearily, tilting his head as he studied it and then looked up at her. “What’s it called?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Hermione said, already feeling slightly lightheaded from the shot. “It’s called The Witch’s Broomstick.”

“Interesting. How’d you come up with that?”

Hermione leaned her elbows on the counter, smiling as she gave her stock answer for that particular drink. “Because a true witch just made it and you’ll be flying high by the time you get to the bottom of it.”

Ron doubled over, his laughter echoing over the music. “Oh, I love it!”

“I thought you would.”

“I usually avoid drinking anything that’s glowing.” Ron picked up the glass, eyeing her. “But if you made it, I trust you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Hermione said as Ron took a long drink. “I could be getting you drunk just to take advantage of you.”

Ron coughed, spraying her with the drink he’d just taken a gulp of and she fell over in peels of giggles.

“That wasn’t fair!” he said, clearing his throat and taking another long drink.

“Oh, but you’re so easy!” Hermione said, still giggling. “I couldn’t resist.”

“I think the Jäger’s getting to you.” He took yet another drink out of the glowing glass. “This is really good by the way. It’s a bit fruity for my tastes, but I like it.”

“Not manly enough for you?”

“Not by half,” he said, and then laughed with her. “If you tell Harry I was drinking anything with fruit juice in it I’ll never forgive you.”

“It’s got coconut rum in it too.”

“Cor, why’d they go and ruin perfectly good rum like that,” Ron said, pulling a face of horror. “That’s a ruddy sin, that is!”

“Just drink your drink,” Hermione said, picking up her wand again. “Might as well make good use of the time.”

Hermione had the club nearly spotless by the time Ron finished his drink and asked for another. Not wanting to hurt his male ego too badly, she gave him straight whiskey on the rocks. He switched the CD’s at the DJ booth and the Beatles were now lilting through the sound system as Hermione finished the rest of her cleaning and announced last call to Ron. It was getting late and she didn’t want Harry to worry.

“How ‘bout that tequila body shot?” Ron asked hopefully, his eyebrows waggling.

“Unless you can find another body, I’m afraid not.”

Ron placed a hand on his chest, staggering back as though wounded and Hermione laughed, telling him he may not want to drink anymore. He straightened and grinned at her.

“How about a dance then?” he asked, placing his empty plastic glass on the counter. “I love this song.”

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him. “You love them all.”

“But this one especially,” Ron said, holding out a hand to her. “Come on, Hermione, one dance.”

Hermione looked at his large hand outstretched to her and she just couldn’t resist. She and Ron had been working in clubs for over three years, but they had never danced and she did love the song playing as much as Ron did.

“Okay,” she said, tucking her wand back into the hidden pocket on the side of her trousers and then walking around to face him. “One dance.”

He gave her a heart-stopping grin and then shrugged out of his leather jacket, tossing it on the bar and pulling her to him. “I guess I better make it a good one.”

Hermione closed her eyes for a second, overwhelmed with the feeling of being so close to Ron. She ran her fingers up his strong arms, trailing them slowly over the material of his faded concert shirt before she wrapped them around his neck. She sighed contently when they started to sway to the music.

The large hands gently holding her waist slid up to the middle of her back as Ron held her closer and Hermione didn’t resist. She rested her face against his shoulder, loving his smell and the feel of his strong, muscled body pressed so intimately against hers. His powerful arms wrapped around her felt better than she had ever imagined they would. She didn’t just feel close to Ron, she felt cherished and protected.

Ron was humming to the music and she smiled, her eyes drifting shut once again. For the first time in a long time. . .Hermione felt safe.

He leaned down, gently brushing the hair off her neck as he started to repeat the lyrics of the song he obviously knew by heart. His singing was slightly off key, and his breath smelled faintly of top shelf whiskey, but it didn’t matter. Hermione melted into him as the words washed over her.

_“Though I know I'll never lose affection for people and things that went before,”_ he sung clearly, with an emotion she’d never heard from him before. _“I know I'll often stop and think about them.”_

His breath was warm against her ear and Hermione’s tensed, knowing the next words even before he sung them.

_“In my life I love you more.”_

She pulled away, tilting her head up to look into his blue eyes that were swirling with passion. “Is that true?”

“You know it is,” he said, reaching up to brush a few stray curls away from her face. “No one compares to you. . . Not to me anyway.”

Hermione suddenly didn’t care that Ron was probably drunk, or that they were on a dance floor at half past four in the morning. She didn’t think about Harry or Voldemort or anything else but the feeling of being in Ron’s arms.

“Kiss me,” she said before reality descended on her again. “Make it a good one.”

Ron didn’t hesitate. He cupped her face with his rough palms as his mouth lowered to hers. Hermione mewed in acceptance, her fingers intertwining in his long hair as he kissed her.

He groaned as his tongue slipped past her parted lips, and Hermione was lost. Fire poured over her and all the repressed lust she had for the man in her arms rose to the surface. Her grip on his hair tightened as she stood on her toes and returned the kiss with vigor. Her tongue brushed against his before it found it’s way into his mouth. She drank him in, and it wasn’t just the taste of fine whiskey that had her feeling drunk with him.

Unable to stop herself, she did something she had been dying to do for years and reached under his shirt. Ron moaned again as her fingers trailed over his taunt stomach and then upwards, until she was caressing his muscled chest.

He pulled away after only a few seconds, breathless and wide-eyed. “Do a sobering charm on me.” He gripped her arm, pulling her hand out from under his shirt as he looked at her seriously. “Please, I don’t want to be drunk for this. I’ve waited too long.”

Hermione nodded, having to take a few cooling breaths to clear her head as she pulled out her wand. She cast a sobering charm on Ron, and he blinked at her and then shook his head, his eyes growing wide and Hermione could see his sudden hesitation. “Shit, Hermione, should we be—“

Hermione dropped her wand and pulled him to her. She gripped his face, his whiskers rough against her palms as she brought him eyelevel with her. “Shut up, Ron.”

She captured his lips again, and Ron shuddered in her arms and then kissed her back with far more skill then he had the first time. His hands slipped behind her back, pulling her flush against him.

He really was painfully easy.


End file.
